Changed

by Alicia Renee Kline

  Matthew’s hand slid across his face to hide the grin I knew was there.

  “I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than your sister calling him a dick.”

  “Blake’s always had more of a creative tongue, so I’d say asshat would be worse.”

  “I don’t want it to be like this. I don’t want anyone to hate him when it’s not entirely his fault. This is what I’m sure he was trying to avoid when he told me he wanted to keep this quiet. And I get it, really I do. But it’s so hard.”

  “I know, darling.”

  “Fuck, not you, too. That’s what Will calls me. Called me.”

  He rose from his stool, the conversation over. I mirrored him, ready to walk him out to the reception area and see him to the door. But before I got more than two steps away from the table, he reached out and grabbed my shoulder, holding me in place. My eyes flitted up to his as he pulled me into his embrace.

  Damn, these married men were demonstrative with their affection. First Chris, now Matthew. Both hot in their own right, and totally swoon worthy. But not for me. Why was it that the only man I wanted to take me into his arms wouldn’t?

  “He cares about you, Gracie,” Matthew said with undeniable sincerity into the top of my head.

  I fisted a handful of his shirt between my fingers. “Don’t say it, Matthew. Don’t lie to me just because it’s what I want to hear.”

  He pried away from my grip, his hand warm against mine. Before he let me go, he squeezed, his action cementing our solidarity. There’d never been a time since we met that I hadn’t been firmly in his corner, and he was telling me he was always on my side.

  “Who said I was lying?” he muttered, an idea moving across his features. One that he wasn’t inclined to share with me, at least not yet.

  Without another word, he turned and let himself out, leaving me to wonder what I had just put into motion.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Who’s the cutest baby ever?” Blake cooed to her niece from across my kitchen.

  Lauren and Sadie had already taken up residence there, the youngest Snyder firmly strapped into the highchair that my friend apparently carted everywhere in her trunk. Matthew had gotten as far as sticking his head in the room and waving before retreating back to the living room couch to wait for the rest of the party to arrive. Which meant that I’d spent several awkward moments with my bestie and her spawn, fruitlessly attempting small talk until Blake had shown up and saved the day.

  The blond whirlwind that was my boss brushed past Lauren and me as if we weren’t even there, her eyes dead set on the baby. Before I knew what had happened, the tray of the chair had been removed, buckles unlatched and chubby infant lifted up into loving arms. Then, and only then, did the adults get their greeting.

  “Hey guys,” she grinned, “what’s up?”

  “My daughter, obviously,” Lauren joked. “Glad you’re happy to see the rest of us too.”

  “I see Gracie all the time,” Blake deadpanned.

  I shot her the middle finger, much to Lauren’s chagrin.

  “Eventually you won’t be able to do that any more,” she warned, “because little people will begin to understand.”

  “Fuck that bullshit,” I laughed. “This is why I’m never having kids.”

  “Because you enjoy swearing so much?” Lauren asked.

  The ice was thawing, so I did my best to finish it off. “Damn straight.”

  I was treated to a genuine smile from across the countertop. Before she became too misty-eyed, however, Lauren spun around and busied herself at my stove. Just like that, things were getting back to a new version of normal. Matthew could work wonders; I was feeling better already.

  “Speaking of kids,” Blake intimated, “guess who’s taking her last birth control pill tomorrow morning?”

  “Oh my God,” Lauren breathed, “you’re going to start trying?”

  “Yep. Chris and I decided that there’s no time like the present. It could happen next month, next year, never. Who knows? But we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.”

  “Something tells me you’ve been ready for a decade,” Lauren observed.

  “Maybe. So with any luck, Sadie’s going to have some stiff competition for the cutest baby alive.”

  “Unless your baby ends up looking more like Chris than you.”

  “Lauren!” I screeched, so Blake wouldn’t have to.

  Blake didn’t even bat an eyelash, so far over coming to her now-husband’s defense. Wisely, she just chose to ignore her sister-in-law’s running commentary. For more than a few years, those insults had come courtesy of her own lips anyway.

  A thin line between love and hate, indeed.

  My expression soured as I thought of what the Snyder siblings had implied about me and Eric. Never in a million years. Granted, the same could now be said about me and Will, with a minor addition in syntax - never again in a million years.

  “So what’s on the menu for tonight, chef?” Blake, and by association, Sadie, turned to Lauren, since she was the woman at the helm.

  “Nothing too fancy,” she demurred, “I found this recipe for fried chicken I’m trying out. Mashed potatoes. Macaroni and cheese. Green beans.”

  “I can feel the pounds piling on already,” Blake kidded.

  “She is making enough to feed a small army. Are you two positive that it’s just the five of us tonight?”

  “What can I say?” Lauren flashed a smile across at Blake. “Our men can eat.”

  That smile concerned me, though. Something was being hidden, something that I’d entrusted Matthew with putting a stop to before it began. Perhaps I’d overestimated his ability to halt the gale force winds that propelled his sister when she got into planning mode.

  “Because if you’re planning something preposterous like turning this into something like a night of speed dating, I’d like to remind you that the appropriate place for something like that is not at my fucking house.”

  “Though the fried chicken could be a way of weeding out the potential suitors. For example, you’d find out pretty quickly who was a leg man and who liked breasts.” How Blake managed that one with a straight face was beyond me. She was obviously learning a thing or two from me, the self-proclaimed mistress of wit.

  “I thought most guys liked both,” Lauren continued. “Or is that just my man?”

  They dissolved into fits of giggles, while I as the resident single girl in the room stared out the window and let them have their moment. I tried not to worry that Blake’s latest revelation would further the lines of demarcation between us. I was well aware of what I’d done when Lauren ran off and got engaged, pregnant and subsequently married. I’d staked my claim on Blake, savoring the friendship of someone who was more emotionally screwed than I was. We’d weathered the storm of her own happy relationship; could our partnership survive the creation of yet another new life?

  It royally sucked when your friends began to grow up right before your eyes. Me, I wanted to take my dolls and go home. Too bad I was home already, and I’d invited them here.

  Not a moment too soon, Matthew appeared in the doorway to rescue me. I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Chris, but I imagined that he’d shown up with Blake. Would it be odd for me to go out and join the guys instead?

  “Sunshine,” he addressed his sister, “a word please?”

  “Sure, dork. What’s up?”

  “Not here.” Matthew insisted.

  “Fine. Whatever.” She deposited his daughter back in the highchair, much to Sadie’s dismay. The poor thing made her disappointment known, and I nearly crossed the room to console her before realizing that I wasn’t in the best position to do so.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of real estate available to engage in private conversation. They ended up exiting the house through the door off the kitchen, Matthew flashing me a mouthful of radiant white teeth as they did so. And this was the part where he swooped in and saved the day. If successful, he was goin
g to get a damn good present come Christmas.

  “You need help?” I asked Lauren, a futile attempt to take my mind off what was going on outdoors.

  “Sure.” She pressed a giant plastic spoon into my hand. “Stir.”

  I paused, staring blankly at the cooktop.

  “Potatoes,” she clarified.

  “Got it.”

  I sunk the spoon into the pan and waved it around distractedly, not doing anything close to stirring them. To be fair, Lauren’s attention was no longer on our meal, either.

  She cocked her head and motioned with her shoulder to where Matthew and Blake had headed. “What’s that about?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me.”

  That wasn’t so far from the truth. Sure, I had my suspicions, but no concrete evidence. It surprised me that I’d given Matthew the truth with a couple days’ worth of lead time, but he was just now attempting to rectify the situation. Maybe that hadn’t been a plan that I saw in his eyes when he left the shop the other day. Perhaps it had simply been bewilderment.

  Of course, this was coming from a man who’d orchestrated a ninja intervention to bring Lauren out of her funk and into her rightful place in his arms. Granted, he’d had help then. Without Will ratting out Lauren’s whereabouts to Chris, Matthew wouldn’t have made his move when he did.

  Will had helped get Matthew together with Lauren. In one of the most offhand, strange ways that one could think of. Why hadn’t I considered that before I’d spilled my guts to my best friend’s husband? Was I subconsciously hoping that Matthew would feel indebted to Will? That somehow he’d return the favor?

  “I’m being rude,” I proclaimed, taking the spoon out of the potatoes and resting it on a plate atop the counter. “I haven’t said hello to Chris yet.”

  Lauren shrugged. “He deserves rude.”

  “From you, maybe. Not from me.”

  As I predicted, Chris was lounging on my couch, eyes fixed on the television. Sensing someone’s presence - and visibly hoping it wasn’t Lauren’s - those chocolate brown orbs swung over to me. The tension in his body released, and he threw me a grin.

  “Just me,” I confirmed, stepping into the room.

  I sank down beside him on the sofa, a comfortable distance between us.

  “So what were the hens cackling about in there?” he asked, motioning to the kitchen.

  “My love life. Or lack thereof.”

  He snorted, which garnered him a slap on the arm.

  “What’s your wife planning? Besides trying to have a baby?”

  “She told you?”

  “Afraid so. Is that news to you?”

  “Of course not. But I’m just surprised that she shared that so quickly. Guess you two don’t keep anything from each other.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek, then turned away so he wouldn’t see the guilt written all over my face. “What’s she planning for tonight? Here?”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to stay out of Blake’s way when she’s bound and determined to do something. If she wants my input on something, she’ll ask. Otherwise, I give her a wide berth and just let nature run its course.”

  “Christopher, you are not making this any easier for me.”

  “Am I supposed to?”

  “What was with the whole ‘I’ll always take care of you’ speech then? I’m asking for your services and you’re failing to provide.”

  “I meant what I said, Grace. I just never promised to protect you from my wife. She’s relatively harmless anyway.”

  “I blame you for whatever happens.”

  “I’m sure that Lauren will second that opinion.”

  “You’re right.”

  Blake breezed into the room, Matthew a few strides behind. I attempted to pick up context clues from either one of them, but failed. To be fair, Blake whizzed past pretty quickly and my eyes tracked her as she bent down beside the couch to dig something out of her purse. My attention on her, I didn’t lock eyes with Matthew for a round of telepathy.

  The something in question was Blake’s cell phone. As soon as it was retrieved, she bounced back up, in mid scroll through her contact list. Apparently finding what she was looking for, she swiped the touchscreen and put it to her ear. She waited, presumably for the other person to answer. After what seemed like an extended period of time, she cursed softly under her breath and stalked towards my hallway.

  “It’s Blake,” I could still hear her say, “I hope you get this message. Don’t come tonight. I repeat: don’t come tonight.”

  As she disconnected the call, I shot Chris a raised eyebrow. “See? She had something up her sleeve.”

  “Never said she didn’t. Only that I wasn’t about to stand in her way. A point of view obviously not shared by her brother. Oddly enough, she actually listens to him.”

  “I’ve known her longer,” Matthew gloated.

  I mouthed my thanks to him, which he acknowledged with one of those patented guy chin lift things. For what I was indebted to him was unknown, but I could rest easier assured that this crisis had been averted. As long as I didn’t linger too long on the fact that I’d clearly heard her leaving a message, something that may or may not be received. The knowledge that she’d only needed one call emboldened me as well; it sort of ruled out the speed dating scenario.

  She’d likely gotten hung up on the idea of me hooking up with Hotel Guy Mike. That had to be it, though I questioned the sanity of inviting a guy you’d slept with to eat dinner with the guy you’d slept with before and after him, even if you were now married to said other guy and were now innocently trying to play matchmaker for your employee.

  It made about as much sense as Lauren inviting Eric to Matthew’s house for Thanksgiving, and well, that had happened, too.

  I was clearly surrounded by idiots.

  I made a mental note to get Matthew alone and ask him if my theory was correct since I knew Blake wouldn’t be likely to share her aborted itinerary with me. There would be vindication in him confirming my suspicions, regardless of the ick factor and the fact that I would never date, much less screw, someone who had slept with one of my friends.

  Matthew’s gloating and my scheming were interrupted by Lauren announcing that dinner was served. We all headed into the kitchen to grab our plates, then segregated ourselves once we’d piled them high with food. Men out in the living room; women in the kitchen with the baby. Hopelessly sexist, but since this was no longer a formal affair - if it had ever been one at all - it was advisable to keep Lauren and Chris separated and in their respective corners.

  Besides, all Lauren and Blake wanted to dish about was babies, and the guys would undoubtedly want to roll their eyes heavenward if forced to listen. I was leaning toward the male opinion myself. Instead, I poked silently at my dinner while they gossiped about techniques to improve your chances of conception, which I found kind of strange considering that Lauren hadn’t really intended to get pregnant with Sadie when she did, and Blake definitely hadn’t intended to get pregnant the night that Matthew had gotten arrested. This spoke volumes for their collective fertility, and raised doubts as to whether either of them really needed to rely on best practices for doing the deed.

  A vision of my boss, post coital with her legs raised high in the air to keep things in, flashed before me, making me choke on my green beans. The conversation around me halted, and two sets of eyes looked at me expectantly. It was debatable if Sadie actually intended to look at me, so she didn’t count.

  “Something to share with the class?” Blake pressed.

  “Nope. I’m good.”

  They proceeded to discuss the topic at hand, and I proceeded to wish it wouldn’t be untoward to grab a book or a magazine or something to occupy myself with. Instead, I attempted to catch Sadie’s eye and make her emit a baby laugh, which wasn’t such a bad sound if you thought about it.

  So that’s why my eyes were crossed and my tongue was stuck out when the doorbell rang. And the damn kid didn�
�t bite, anyway.

  “Grace! Door!” Chris shouted helpfully.

  “You could, you know, answer it!” I shouted back, even as I rose from my seat.

  “Not my house, darling,” he reminded me as I walked past him to see who was there. “Besides, I don’t see you complaining at Matthew and he didn’t jump up to get it, either.”

  “For starters, Matthew is smoking hot and you’re just, well,” I joked, letting my voice trail off. “Plus, he didn’t yell at me.”

  The smile was still firmly on my face when I unlatched the deadbolt, the giggle barely contained when I swung open the door and promptly quit breathing.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “What are you doing here?” I hissed, even as I stepped aside to allow Will in. Not that I wasn’t insanely pleased on a certain level for the opportunity to see him again, especially when he took great care to slide past me in a manner that permitted his bare arm to brush against my chest.

  My Will was a breast man, plain and simple.

  Except he wasn’t mine, and he never would be.

  “I heard you were having a party,” he said dismissively.

  “Maybe,” I hedged. I had half a mind to ask him if he had a voicemail he hadn’t listened to yet, but I refrained. I did, however, turn to Matthew to see if he would fill me in, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Instead, I chose a different tactic to counter with. “Who invited you?”

  His green eyes flashed to mine, something remarkably close to pain, or sadness, or ten million other negatives reflected in them. My heart seized at the sight of it, the notion that I didn’t want him here first and foremost in his thoughts.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” I backtracked. “Lauren made plenty of food. Grab a plate and make yourself at home.”

  Admittedly a bad choice of words, but I was too busy wincing to tell if they had affected him the same way. When I dared open my own eyes, he wasn’t looking at me any longer. And the commotion, or the simple tension in the house, had drawn an audience. Lauren and Blake stood in the doorway, Sadie secured in her aunt’s arms.